


High

by itsthebat



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Tim is high, and drunk, dick bruce and stephanie are mentioned, jason is acting like a good brother, or Both, there are bad jokes too what else do you want, wonder woman is mentioned too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsthebat/pseuds/itsthebat
Summary: Jason finds Tim drunk and decides to help him. They share memories of their time as Robin and bad jokes.





	High

Jason is undeniably having the best time of his life, and he feels a little guilty about that.

            He doesn’t know how or when or _why_ , but Tim is drunk. Like, _really_ drunk. Jason was walking home from the supermarket, trying to light up a cigarette when he found Tim crouching in an alley like a creep—he wasn’t doing anything, he was just there. Crouching. Jason recognized him because he had a backpack and it was open and his Red Robin costume was sticking out.

            Like the good person he was, Jason came to his side and poked him with his foot. Tim looked at him, eyes barely open, and said, “That’s  going to kill you.” He pointed to the unlighted cigarette between Jason’s lips and then vomited.

            And now they are at Jason’s place, and Tim’s having the worst time of his life. It’s obvious that he’s drunk or high or something in between, and he’s being funnier than he’s ever been. Kinda. Jason feels a little bad for him, but whatever, he deserves it for doing drugs.

            “Jason,” Tim mutters from the bed where he fell face first when they arrived. He opens one eye, and Jason throws the cigarette he (finally) had out the window.

            “Yeah?”

            “Listen,” Tim says, and closes his eyes again. Jason listens, but he can hear nothing but the heavy breathing of Tim. “Can you hear it?”

            Jason snorts. “What is it, buddy?”

            “Oh my god.” He drags a hand down his face, moans really loudly. “She’s coming for me.”

            Where’s his mobile phone? Jason has to record this. He _has_ to, because if he doesn’t Dick’s not going to believe him when he tells him Tim was _high_.

            “Who’s coming for you?”

            Tim doesn’t answer, so Jason looks at him and he has his eyes open really big, as if he just saw a ghost. Jason opens his mouth to ask if he’s okay, because even though this is fun he doesn’t want Tim to go comatose on him. Because, like. Bruce would be mad. And he would blame Jason. Before he can say anything, Tim whispers, “ _Wonder Woman_.”

            Jason snorts again, but this time he almost chokes with his own saliva. _What the fuck_. What the flipping fuck did Tim do to get to this point? This is going to be something historic. Jason is a privileged person. Jesus Christ, he can’t believe his eyes.

            “Why would Diana come for you?”

            Tim sits so fast Jason thinks he’s gonna past out from the effort, but instead he turns his head towards Jason really slowly, really creepy. Tim whispers, “Diana is Wonder Woman’s secret name?”

            “Timmy, buddy,” Jason says, coming to him. He puts a hand on Tim’s chest—he can even feel his heart, beating super-fast—and pushes, making Tim lie down again; he doesn’t stop looking at him in this creepy way, like Jason’s green and has antennae. “I think you should get some sleep.”

            “But, Jason,” Tim says, his lip’s quivering. Oh, great. Is he going to cry? _Now_? A tear falls down his cheek and _fuck fuck fuck no, stop_. “I miss my dad.”

            _Oh boy_. What is he supposed to do now? He doesn’t know how to make people feel better—goddammit, he _kills_ people. He looks at Tim, eyes puffy and red, and Jason wants to do something to make him think Wonder Woman is coming for him again, to make him think of flying unicorns if necessary, anything but his father. He awkwardly puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

            He says the first thing that comes to his mind, “Bruce is going to be pissed off.”

            Tim blinks once, twice, and smiles. This fucking kid. “He misses you,” he says, and Jason does everything he can to stop himself from wincing.

            “We’re talking about _you_ not me.”

Tim shakes his head. “Why can’t we talk about _us_?”

            Jason barks a laugh. Tim looks at him with a raised eyebrow—Jason would pay anything to know what he’s thinking right now. “What the hell were you doing to end up like this?”

            “I was—” he says, but stops himself. He sighs, and he looks kind of _embarrassed_.  Jason sits on the edge of the bed and tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. He waits, and then Tim blurts out, “I went to a party. With my friends from school.”

            “Ah,” says Jason, smiling freely. “A _party_.”

            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            Shaking his head, Jason heads to the kitchen, but before he can get out of the bedroom Tim mutters, “Jason?” so Jason turns around again. Tim looks even smaller now, and for a second Jason forgets that he’s only two years older.

            “Yeah?”

            “Stop smoking,” Tim says, a lopsided grin on his face. Jason laughs and when he thinks Tim is done talking, he says, “Did you ever feel like you weren’t enough?”

            Jason leans on the door frame. Dumbfounded, he asks, “When?”

            Tim has his eyes closed and his breathing is even again, so Jason thinks that he’s fallen asleep until he says, “When you were Robin.”

            _Yes_. “No. Why would I?”

            “Sometimes Bruce—he acts like I don’t exist. Like I’m, I don’t know. That I’m less important than Damian, I guess?”

            _Fuck Bruce_ , Jason wants to say. And he’s so angry and he wants to go to the freaking batcave and punch his stupid batface and tear everything apart.

            Jason shakes his head again, curls his hands into fists and looks at Tim in his bed. This fucking kid. His eyelids are moving slow and his mouth is a bit open and his face is pale and he looks like the quietest boy in the world; no one would say that he’s a vigilante, that he has a thousand bruises under his clothes, not all of them from fights. _This fucking kid_. Jason wants to kick him out of his house but he also wants to keep him away from Bruce forever. And he’s—

            Tim suddenly starts to laugh. Jason looks at him with his eyebrows raised, a bit confused because what the hell, what’s _wrong_ with this kid? What kind of party did he go to?

            Tim says, “I just remembered a joke Dick told me. Do you want to hear it?”

            And because he doesn’t have anything better to do, Jason says yes and sits on the edge of the bed and listens to Tim as he says, “Okay, okay, here we go. What does a mom octopus say to her child octopus—”

            “A _mom_ octopus?”

            “Yes! But let me finish. Okay, what does she tell him when they’re going to cross the road?”

            “I don’t—”

            “Give me your hand, give me your hand, give me your hand, give me your hand—” He laughs so hard he has to hug his stomach, and Jason cannot help but giggle himself, because the joke is just so bad, but Tim is laughing so much and that makes him want to laugh as well.

            “Do you wanna hear another? Dick always tells jokes when he’s been hurt and he’s drugged.”

            “All right, tell me.”

            “What do—” he laughs already, and Jason punches him on the arm jokingly. “Okay, sorry. What do you call a can opener that doesn’t work?”

            “A can opener?” Tim nods fervently. “I don’t know.”

            Jason feels the smile tugging at his lips even before Tim tells the punch line. “A can’t opener! Do you get it? Like, a _can’t_ opener.”

            “They are so bad,” Jason says, though he’s laughing too.

            “I know, right? But they’re also good. They are _good-bad-jokes_. Where do you think Dick gets them from?”

            “The Internet. I’m sure he looks them up when he knows he’s going to hang out with us just to make us laugh.”

            Tim snorts. “He wants to make _you_ laugh. You’re so grumpy all the time.”

            “Hey!” Jason complains, hitting him again. Tim tries to shake him off, but Jason is relentless—and sober—and stronger than Tim. They are laughing and for a second Jason wonders what it would be like to have Tim in his house every night—not high and sad because he feels he’s not enough but telling jokes and laughing. Of all the bats, Jason thinks that Tim’s the one he likes the most. Maybe. He doesn’t really know.

            Jason ends up beside Tim on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Tim asks, “Why’s there a red mark on the ceiling?”

            “Um,” mutters Jason, grinning. “Stephanie was here the other day. We had a food fight. She threw a tomato and _somehow_ it hit the ceiling.”

            “Oh.”

            They lie in silence. Time passes, and when Jason looks at Tim again, he’s asleep. He covers him with the blanket and stares at him for a second before covering himself with the blanket too. What the hell, they’d shared jokes and Robin memories and freaked out because Wonder Woman was coming for Tim—sharing a bed is nothing.

            Tim snores, and Jason rolls his eyes.

            _This fucking kid_.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this!!


End file.
